


Outsider

by natkate



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Clexa, F/F, Smallville Universe, superhero au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-02
Updated: 2016-10-18
Packaged: 2018-08-19 00:47:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 16,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8182508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/natkate/pseuds/natkate
Summary: 23-year-old Clarke Griffin was okay. She wasn't great, but she could deal with that in time. What she can't deal with, however, is the nosey reporter now breathing down her neck and asking far too many questions than she was comfortable answering. How was she supposed to keep Lexa Woods, the most well-renowned reported in all of Metropolis, from ruining everything she'd ever built for herself? Would her secret survive the chaos?orSmallville AU in which Clarke Griffin is the female Clark Kent and Lexa Woods is Lois Lane, and far too much is at stake.





	1. Yet Another Day

**Author's Note:**

> This idea has been swimming around in my brain for awhile now, and I finally got the time to put it into coherent words haha. If any of y'all are familiar with or have seen Smallville - airing on the WB/CW for ten years -, this story is essentially a re-imagining of that, except with all of our favorite characters at the forefront (;  
> The show essentially follows a young Clark Kent as he navigates finding out about his abilities and dealing with the various freak accidents that occur in Smallville after the meteor shower that brought him to Earth, and I 10/10 recommend you check it out. If you're curious, though, I'd maybe Google it to check out the setting and stuff so that you can get the tone of this story? Idk, it's totally up to you!! I've definitely taken enough creative liberties for you to not have to do that...
> 
> (Rest-assured: for those of you reading BWBS, I'm currently working on the next chapter and have no intention of leaving that story uncompleted. This is just a fun lil idea I wanted to experiment with.)
> 
> Anyway, pleeeaaaasseee let me know what you think of this!! I'd definitely like to know if it's worth continuing...
> 
> Enjoy (:

 

 

 

 

 

 

_ "Come on, Finn - keep your hands on the wheel!" Clarke urged him, halfheartedly moving to push his hand away where it slowly crept up her bare thigh. _

_ Finn threw her his signature lopsided grin, squeezing a little below her kneecap in defiance. Clarke sighed gently, meeting his gaze with a single raised eyebrow, shaking her head and scoffing as he looked back to the road with his right hand still on her thigh. _

 

_ The sun was setting far off in the west, casting a gorgeous spray of orange and pink hues across the sky in every direction. Finn slowly egged the speedometer on, testing the limits of his truck's engine on the empty stretch of road surrounded by rolling hills of green farmland all around them. Her body was in-tune to every sensation - the way the rubber tracked over uneven pavement, the jostling vibration of the belabored engine -, feeling every incremental increase in speed as the car inched over 70 miles an hour now. _

 

_ She could go so much faster. _

 

_ "Please tell me your mom has one of her apple pies ready for me, babe," Finn nearly whined, shooting her an adorable pout that caused her heart to squeeze happily in her chest. _

_ She reached over to graze her fingertips down his jawline and back up, moving to tuck an unreasonably long strand of  _ _ brown hair behind his ear. _

 

_ "You'll only get a slice if you let me cut this ridiculous hair of yours tonight... No buts," she stated firmly, quirking a playful eyebrow at him when he whipped around to gape at her with a slack jaw. _

_ Finn's long hair was a bout of contention in their relationship as of late, nearly on par with the length of Clarke's where it fell to his shoulders. Their friends were all in agreement that it had to go sooner rather than later, and Clarke was more than happy to oblige them. _

 

_ "Baaabe - " _

 

_ "What did I just say, Finn?" Clarke interrupted him, gently chastising as she moved his right hand from her leg to interlock their fingers on the seat cushion between them. _

_ He was immediately pacified by that, huffing a little in acquiescence as he turned his gaze back to the road. _

 

_ They sat in a comfortable silence for moments after that, Clarke turning to watch the scenery fly by the window as Finn began to absentmindedly stroke her hand with his thumb. She smiled softly at the action, feeling a familiar sense of warmth wash over her - the one that always overtook her whenever they were together. _

_ Drawing her attention away from the window, Finn moved their intertwined fingers up to begin peppering gentle kisses along the outside of Clarke's hand, causing her to giggle embarrassingly as he pulled her closer to him across the seat. He usually did this when they rode together - as his old Ford truck didn't have a passenger seat belt to get in the way, much to Abby Griffin's unnecessary disgruntlement -, and it was all too natural for Clarke to slide over and tuck herself into his side beneath his arm, reflexively lacing their fingers together once more when he draped his hand over her shoulder. She was far too content pressing her face into the crook of his neck, placing light kisses down his throat and causing him to shift a little in anticipation. Too content pressing her lips to his where they turned to meet her. _

_ Too content to notice the slight leftward drift of the vehicle as Finn's attention was drawn away from the road. Too content to notice the semi-truck turning onto the road in their direction, mere miles from where they sped on. _

_ Too content to react as the truck began to lay on the horn... _

 

The loud crack of splintering wood and a resounding boom was enough to startle Clarke from her dream.

She shot up into a sitting position on her mattress, frantically glancing around for the source of the sound as she breathed through the lingering panic in her mind. It only took her a moment to process her surroundings, immediately deducing what'd happened.

_ Not again... _

 

Clarke had been floating, hovering a few feet above her bed in the deepest part of her sleep cycle as her mind attempted to work through the torment it'd been forced to endure. The... _ floating _ had started her freshman year of high school - one of many fun little tricks to add to the list of strange things she'd learned her body could do -, and she was genuinely starting to get tired of the amount of bed frames she'd had to replace due to her leaden weight - undoubtedly the result of her skin as impenetrable as steel.

 

Clarke threw the sheets off of herself and swung her legs over the side of the bed, resting both elbows on her knees and cradling her head in her hands. The bed made a creaking sound at the movement and, had she not been so absorbed in her own misery, she might've noticed the frame completely collapsing beneath her with a resounding thud. As it were, her heart was pounding in her chest, blood rushing in her ears and roaring through her veins at an uncomfortable rate. She'd gotten used to the nightmares and the subsequent panic attacks that usually followed them in recent years, which only made her despise sleep all the more fervently... For all intents and purposes - and if it were humanly possible -, she knew she probably should've been on the verge of cardiac arrest at this point.

 

Too bad she wasn't human.

 

Far too wrapped up in the overwhelming task of keeping herself from hyperventilating, she'd failed to notice the light padding of paws bounding up the main stairs of the house and across the wooden floorboards to her room. Ever the merciful spirit, her golden retriever, Shelby, plopped down loyally by Clarke's side and began to nudge her left arm persistently with her snout as if to say,  _ I'm here, you're okay, you're not alone... _

 

_ But, I am... He's gone... Finn's gone, my dad is gone, my mom can barely stand to look at me - _

 

Clarke looked up, trembling hands immediately moving to cup the dog gently behind both ears and beginning to massage, heaving a dry sob as she looked into the eyes of the only soul on Earth who knew her secret - knew what she was - and hadn't left her. It didn't matter how they left - or even why, for that matter, they claimed they were doing so -, all that mattered was that they were gone. They always  _ left ... _

 

_ They always have, and they always will. And why shouldn't they? You'll never be able to keep them from harm as long as you're around them, anyway... _

 

Shaking herself from that destructive line of thinking, Clarke stood up from the ruins of her bed, working her shoulders back and mentally preparing herself for yet another day in the shadows of a secret so well-kept, a lie so well-preserved. Shelby followed the blonde's movements with her eyes, moving to lie down on the hardwood floor beside Clarke's bed with a huff.

Making her way into the bathroom, Clarke robotically removed her pajamas and threw them every which way, not bothering to look at herself in the mirror as she bent to splash water over her forlorn features, symbolically readying herself to begin another day.

 

 

 

"I'd say that's a good morning's work, huh girl?" Clarke stood with her hands on her hips, eyeing the fresh coat of bright yellow paint now drying on every outside wall of her house with quiet satisfaction. Shelby sat at her heels, wagging her tail happily with her tongue hanging lazily from her mouth.

Morning sunlight broke through the trees now colored various shades of oranges and yellows, framing the house in front of her as well as the large red barn that stood steadfast a good few yards behind the blonde. Crisp morning air was chilled in the midst of fall as they were, and Clarke was once again reminded of just how lucky she was that temperature changes didn't affect her in the slightest - that she could barely feel them at all, as a matter of fact. 

All-in-all, not a bad morning to be alive, if she had to admit it.

 

As usual, Clarke had completed a list of chores that would've taken any normal person north of a week to accomplish in under a half an hour - a list that included everything from painting her house to re-staking every fence post around the fifty acre perimeter of her family's farmland.

Though she lived alone now and, therefore, had no reason to maintain the land as over-attentively as she did on a daily basis, Clarke still took immense pride in the completion of the list of chores that had gradually grown in size the older she'd gotten - and the more she'd learned about her... _abilities._

 

Brushing her hands off haphazardly on her favorite pair of worn-out jeans, Clarke moved to check her father's watch adorning her wrist, startling a little to notice that her shift at the Talon began in less than fifteen minutes. Never one to be late for anything in her life, Clarke glanced down apologetically at Shelby before taking off into the freshly-painted main house at full speed with an audible  _ whoosh _ , a blur of movement too fast to be seen by the naked eye - a powerful gust of wind left behind her the only evidence that she'd even been there at all.

To this day, Clarke still couldn't deny the rush of ecstasy that coursed through her every time she took off at super sonic speed - the feeling wholly indescribable to anyone who'd never had the privilege of defying every natural law of time and space during the course of their existence. Nothing could beat the feeling of loping through those in-betweens - the fleeting moments in which all eyelids were closed in the process of blinking, doomed to miss out on the minute details found in even the most ephemeral of seconds.

 

In under a minute flat, Clarke had changed out of her frayed work clothes and into the slightly more presentable garb she sported everyday: a pair of her favorite blue jeans, a long-sleeved red flannel rolled up to the elbows above a form-fitting white tank top, and a pair of tan Timberlands - the only shoes that'd proved durable enough to handle her inhuman velocity on a daily basis.

Pulling her hair into a messy bun, Clarke clomped down the stairs and into the kitchen just in time to see Shelby finally making her way back into the house after having been left in the dust, coming to a stop by the island as she watched the blonde inhale a bowl of cereal.

 

"Watch the house while I'm gone, alright?" Clarke addressed the dog, patting her gently on the head before grabbing her phone and keys off the counter.

She was slightly disgruntled to notice the two missed texts from one of her best friends and coworkers, Octavia, questioning her whereabouts as she was always typically a half an hour early for her shifts.

 

Clarke stepped through the threshold and locked the front door behind her, throwing a half-smile at Shelby who continued to watch her through the window in the door.

There was no way in hell that her rickety pick-up could get her to work in time...

 

_ Guess I'll just have to run. _

 

With a cocky grin splitting her face, Clarke secured her phone in her back pocket and tucked her keys into the inner pocket of her flannel and did just that.

 

She ran.

 

 

 

 

\------------------------------------------

 

 

 

 

The Talon was sparsely crowded - as was typical on a Tuesday evening -, and Clarke couldn't contain the bored sigh that slipped from her lips as she took inventory of the pastries in the main display near the register.

The coffee shop was a focal point of Smallville, one of the only places in the town that the high school kids could congregate in on any given night. Clarke remembered her own high school days, how she and her parents had assisted in the re-furnishing of the former movie theater during her sophomore year - though her father had kept her from lifting anything too heavy, afraid her strength might be made known in some inadvertent way... Aurora Blake, Octavia and Bellamy's mother, had inherited the theater from her parents, and she'd saved up her entire life to turn the space into the coffee and pastry shop she'd always dreamed of running. She'd received a good deal of financial backing from the local Native American tribe whose reservation she'd volunteered on from a young age, and she'd paid homageto them in the gorgeous paintings and decor that adorned every inch of the space beneath sparkling fairy lights. 

 

"I swear to god," Octavia grumbled, breaking Clarke out of her bored revery with a huff as she sidled up beside the blonde behind the counter, "if one more horny teenage boy makes a grab at my ass, somebody's gonna lose a finger - or a hand, maybe."

Clarke snorted, shaking her head and eyeing the table of scrawny looking teenagers huddled close together and throwing them unsubtle glances every now and then. Clarke turned her head to the side a little, giving herself over to her hypersensitive hearing as she picked up a good deal of unsavory whispers directed at her friend from across the coffee shop. She ground her teeth together in disgust.

 

"Want me to throw them out?" she inquired, barely containing her displeasure as she looked to her friend.

Octavia threw her head back and laughed, good-naturedly patting Clarke on the back.

 

"Please, Griffin... Like you could wrangle five teenage boys on your own," she scoffed, eyes dancing with mirth as she looked at the blonde.

Clarke grimaced, quickly hiding her reaction beneath a half-hearted smile, suddenly determined to look anywhere but at Octavia.

 

_ If she only knew... _

 

"Besides," Octavia continued, moving around the counter to grab the steaming mug sitting on the end, "you and I both know I can take care of myself."

She winked gratuitously at Clarke, strolling over to deliver the cup to her brother, Bellamy, whose glasses threatened to slip off his nose where he kept his face buried in his law book, disheveled hair undoubtedly obscuring his vision where it hung over his brow. He didn't look up as his sister placed the cup in front of him, too immersed in his work where he sat in a booth pressed against the staircase, and Clarke had to suppress another snort as Octavia whacked him on the back of the head in the wake of his ungratefulness. Bellamy didn't even blink, unperturbed by his sister's tired antics as usual. The siblings shared the apartment above the Talon, and Clarke could always count on their ridiculous dynamic to fill her daily quota for entertainment regardless of how shitty her day had been up to that point.

 

Clarke didn't have to look up to know that the slamming of the door at the opposite end of the shop was the result of yet another overdramatic entrance from her best friend, Raven. She couldn't contain her smirk as the girl came stomping up to the counter, all frustration and exasperation as she flopped down on one of the short bar stools.

 

"Quick - I need a caffeine IV  _ stat _ _,_ " her friend commanded, wiping her greasy hands off on the outside of her grey jumpsuit, the uniform she'd decided upon before the opening of her car repair shop. The mechanic had spent her entire young life dreaming of opening such a place and, now that it was a reality, she was as eccentric about its up-keep as she was about her increasingly toxic level of coffee intake.

Clarke laughed, shaking her head a little as she made to prepare her friend's order that contained three times the amount of caffeine as was considered safe for human consumption.

 

"Rough day?" Clarke inquired, glancing over the espresso machine with an eyebrow raised in wry amusement.

Raven threw her head back dramatically and groaned, all the answer the blonde would've needed before the girl started in on her latest diatribe.

 

"Ya know," she began, tone dripping with disdain as she fixed Clarke with an unamused glare, "you'd think people would be smart enough to realize that if the hood of their car is  _ smoking _ , it might not be a good idea to take it for a joyride over the fucking hills... It's not like I have anything better to do than rebuild an entire goddamn  _ engine _ in my spare time - "

 

Her ranting was cut mercifully short by the slamming of the front door once again. Nearly everyone in the shop looked around to gawk at the two women now standing awkwardly in the main entrance, looking comically out of place all of a sudden.

 

The younger-looking woman - the one who'd apparently slammed the door - seemed to be scanning every face in the shop for some odd reason now, and the moment her gaze landed on the blonde standing behind the counter, Clarke swore her heart nearly stopped.

Glossy brown hair was pulled back into a tight bun on the girl's head, a pair of black-framed glasses sitting atop the most perfect nose Clarke had ever seen. The girl's face was all cheekbones, sharp jawlines, and gloriously full lips parted in surprise as her emerald gaze swept Clarke up-and-down, lingering unapologetically in certain areas... She wore a long black coat over a white-collared button down tucked into tight black slacks and high-heel red pumps, all lofty confidence and hard lines - the picture-perfect professional ripped right out of a high fashion magazine, so impossibly beautiful.

_Everything that Clarke could never dream to be..._

 

She looked at Clarke as if she knew her - almost as if she'd finally found the person she'd spent her entire life searching for -, and the blonde couldn't help but shrivel a little beneath the intensity of the gaze, though unable to look away as she was...

 

Seemingly sensing the need to break the strangely weighted moment, the girl's companion - a slightly older woman with sharp cheekbones and lighter hair framing a positively  _ severe _ expression - placed a hand on the brunette's back and guided her over to one of the far tables on the other side of the shop. Though the brunette still eyed Clarke from the corner of her vision, the blonde's attention was immediately drawn away by Raven's loud gasp.

 

Looking down, she noticed that in the midst of her distraction, she'd accidentally left the coffee machine running and the scalding liquid was now overflowing from the tiny mug and pouring out onto her hand. Despite the fact that she couldn't even feel it - that there wasn't so much as a patch of red blossoming on her hand where the burn should've been -, Clarke knew she had to make a show of it.

_Do as any human would.._.

With an exaggerated yelp, Clarke allowed the mug to slip from her grasp and fall to the floor with a loud crash as the porcelain shattered, immediately cradling her hand in the apron around her waist.

She'd always felt ridiculous feigning pain or discomfort throughout her life, as the sensations were wholly unknown to her, but she knew it was the only way she could cover her tracks in these moments...

 

"Jesus, Clarke! You okay?!" Raven questioned, leaning over the counter to glance at the mess with concern lighting her gaze as Octavia rushed over.

Wanting to avoid drawing out the facade of pain, Clarke quickly bent down to begin picking up the broken pieces, her hand still cradled in the apron. She subtly tore a piece of the white cloth off and wrapped it around her hand, eager to cover up the evidence of her non-burn.

 

"Watch it, Clarke - you'll cut yourself!!" Octavia admonished her, causing the blonde to freeze as she moved to get the broom from the supply closet behind them.

Clarke closed her eyes for a moment, breathing deeply as she painstakingly dropped the shard she'd picked up. She could never let her guard down for a second - not even to complete the most menial of tasks...

Moving aside as Octavia shooed her away from the mess, Clarke straightened up and tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear, still concentrating on her "injured" hand cradled at her waist.

 

"Are you alright?" A soft voice pulled her gaze up, causing her to suck in a breath when she noticed the source.

It was the brunette, pressed against the other side of the counter directly opposite Clarke, her brows knit together in a bit of concern as she glanced down at the blonde's wrapped hand.

Before Clarke could open her mouth and embarrass herself, Raven spoke up from just to the right of the brunette, her eyes narrowed in suspicion.

 

"Wait a minute," the mechanic drawled, causing the brunette to look away from Clarke reluctantly to meet her gaze, "I recognize you... You're - "

Raven cut herself off, gasping and slapping her hand down on the counter as triumph flitted across her features. Clarke flinched a little at the action while the brunette remained wholly unmoved and expressionless.

"You're  _ Lexa Woods _ _,_ aren't you?! The most famous journalist in Metropolis, corporate-watchdog extraordinaire?!"

 

The brunette winced a little bit, working her jaw back-and-forth as she shot a somewhat nervous glance at Clarke from the corner of her eye for whatever reason...

 

"I am," Lexa replied flatly, seemingly uncomfortable all of a sudden.

 

"No  _ shit!!" _ Raven exclaimed, cracking a smile as she smacked Lexa on the shoulder enthusiastically. "I saw that story on the news a couple weeks ago - the one about you exposing Wallace Industries all by yourself!! That shit was  _ impressive _ , Woods! How'd you do it?! Did you have to break in - ?"

 

Feeling the need to get away as her friend launched into an extensive inquisition of the trapped reporter, Clarke turned away from them and headed into the supply closet to change her apron. Octavia followed behind her, sighing as she placed the broom back on the wall.

 

"That poor girl," she muttered quietly, glancing over her shoulder at Lexa who was now being interrogated by an overly-excited Raven, a stoic expression on her face - though her eyes kept flitting in the direction of the supply closet every few seconds.

Clarke smirked halfheartedly, gaze trained on the task at hand as she made to remove her apron in favor of grabbing a new one. She started a little as Octavia grabbed her wrist, stopping her movement. The girl's expression was alight with an almost-motherly concern, eyes soft and probing as she scanned Clarke's face.

The blonde's heart constricted painfully in her chest.

 

"Go home, Clarke," she implored quietly, eyes still darting between both of Clarke's, searching. "You've worked every single day for the past _six_ _ months _ , and I know you've gotta be exhausted - even if you're too proud to take a sick day..."

Clarke smiled softly, knowing full-well that her friend was baffled by her record of perfect attendance - never having missed a single day of school or work in her entire life.

 

"You sure, O? Wouldn't wanna leave you all alone to deal with Ray  _ and _ a bunch of horny boys. I'm really not sure which one is worse..."

Octavia laughed heartily in response, her grip tightening reflexively on Clarke's wrist.

 

"Yeah, yeah, Griff, I got it," her friend assured her, now pulling Clarke out of the supply closet after her and over a few steps to the back door exit.

Clarke didn't have to look over to know that Lexa's eyes were now trained on her back, following her movements in a way that made the blonde's skin practically crawl...

_ What was her deal? _

 

"Now, you go let loose and tip some cows for me while I try to pry Raven off that gorgeous creature back there."

Clarke laughed happily at that as Octavia shoved her into the back alleyway, wry amusement present on her features.

 

"I wonder what she's doing here..." Clarke pondered absentmindedly, hands resting on her hips as Octavia looked back over her shoulder to watch the impromptu interview still being conducted. The girl shrugged, looking back to Clarke with a bored expression now.

 

"Who knows? Why anyone would leave the city to travel to this godforsaken dump is beyond me... Hold on a sec - what if I can get her to feature the Talon in one of the Daily Planet's editorials?! If I make her coffee strong enough..." As soon as the idea sparked behind her friend's eyes, Clarke knew she'd lost her.

Shaking her head and bidding the girl a good night, Clarke turned on her heels and headed towards the main street as Octavia practically sprinted back into the coffee shop.

 

The streets of Smallville were quiet at this time of night, the old-fashioned center street devoid of people beneath the bright glow of a full moon surrounded by a dusting of stars in every direction. Clarke tucked her hands into her pocket and began an easy stroll away from the Talon, needing to put a bit of distance between herself and the downtown area before she could take off towards home without being seen...

 

A few blocks from the Talon now, Clarke suddenly picked up on the sound of a door shutting swiftly somewhere behind her and the sound of hasty footsteps hurrying in her direction. Knowing that no normal person would've been able to pick up on the sound so easily, Clarke ducked her head and continued to walk, ignoring the urge to turn around and confront whoever it was.

 

" _ Clarke!  _ Clarke Griffin!!" a voice called from a good distance behind her.

Clarke stilled, jaw clenching as she turned around.

_ Lexa? What the - how does she know my name?! _

 

Taking a steadying breath against her growing unease and increasing heart rate, Clarke fixed the brunette with the most neutral expression she could manage. Lexa was jogging towards her, surprisingly graceful in her heels, a determined look coloring her beautiful features. She came to a stop a couple of feet from Clarke, breathing a little heavily as her eyes scanned the blonde's face.

Clarke raised an expectant brow, doing her best to maintain her composure as she waited.

 

" Can I help you?" Clarke inquired somewhat shortly, allowing her annoyance to seep through her tone.

Lexa's expression was completely stoic now, carefully measured as she met the blonde's perturbed gaze.

 

"I'd like to ask you a few questions, if that's alright," the reporter replied evenly, watching Clarke closely for her reaction.

Clarke was immediately thrown.

 

"Uh...," Clarke hesitated, unsure how to respond. "Wh-what for?"

_ This can't be good... _

Lexa stepped closer, hands clasped in front of her with impossibly straight posture. Her expression was as even as ever now. She took a deep breath, as if readying herself for some kind of monologue...

 

"Since it's in both of our interests to get this over with as painlessly as possible, I'll do my best to keep it short," Lexa explained, inching closer to Clarke for whatever reason.

The blonde had to fight the urge to step back, locking her jaw like an iron trap.

 

"As I'm sure you're well aware, Smallville has been the site of... _ unusual _ occurrences since the meteor shower 20 years ago."  _ Oh god... _ This was  exactly what Clarke  _ didn't need _ right now.

"The Planet has kept a close eye on the aftermath for many years, and we've noticed one consistency in nearly every story that's been written about this place..."

Lexa was only a foot away from Clarke now, and the blonde was fighting against every instinct she had that told her to  run .

 

"You."

Clarke actually did step back this time, suddenly in a daze somewhere between dread and panic. Lexa simply stepped forward to close the distance again as if pulled on a tether by Clarke's movements, unrelenting in her pursuit.

"Freak accidents, miraculous saves in everything from house fires to drownings, car crashes - "

Clarke physically blanched at that, legitimately stumbling backwards as a look of pure agony flitted across her features before she could catch it. Lexa seemed to notice it, though, stilling a moment as guilt flashed through her eyes, swallowing noisily in an attempt to maintain her stoic expression in the wake of the blonde's response to her words.

_ What gave her the right?! _

 

"I...I apologize if I...over-stepped, Ms. Griffin," Lexa relented, voice softening as she reached out a little instinctively as if to steady Clarke. The blonde flinched away from her as if the girl's touch might burn.

The reporter clenched her jaw against the urge to react.

"But, you have to understand... You're there, in every story - in the background, at the center, you're  _ there _ _,_ " Lexa continued, apparently having bottled away what little emotions she had once more. Clarke still looked as if she'd been slapped.

"I've been...keeping track of you for a couple of years now, and my editor finally gave me the green light to write this piece..." The reporter seemed somewhat awkward now, as if having accidentally admitted some well-kept secret to the blonde. Clarke was only just maintaining her calm.

"I just - " Lexa swallowed, seeming suddenly overwhelmed by her inherent curiosity now bubbling to the surface. "I want to know  _ why _ ... Why you? Why do you  _ always _ seem to be at the center of every bizarre thing that happens here? What are you trying to - ?"

 

"Stop," Clarke cut her off, voice hard and flat as she fixed the other girl with a look of pure disdain. Lexa gulped at the anger in the blonde's gaze, finally thrown a little off-kilter for the first time throughout the course of their conversation.

_ Assault, more like... _

 

"I understand that you reporters have an  _ incessant need _ to craft some sort of sensationalist headline out of every little thing that happens in the world, but I can  _ assure _ you that I'm nothing special," Clarke spat, her words nearly coming through gritted teeth as she struggled to maintain her composure. She never usually lost her cool like this...

Lexa seemed un-phased, though, having gathered herself after her last slip-up. She was watching Clarke even more closely now, the distance between them negligible, and the blonde had to be careful not to give the other girl exactly what she wanted...

"I was born and raised in Smallville, and I've lived my life on a farm for 23 years now. If you think there's something  _ special _ about that, then maybe your perception of what's  _ relevant _ and  _ newsworthy _ is a little skewed..."

Lexa remained neutral, not even flinching as Clarke invaded her personal space to glare up into carefully impassive green eyes.

"So, do me a favor and leave me and my friends the hell  _ alone." _

 

With that, Clarke turned on her heels, fighting the urge to knock the brunette on her ass with the resulting wind-gust from her super speed.

Before she could even get to the end of the block, though, Lexa had hastened to catch up to her and now stood directly in front of her, obscuring her path with that same annoyingly determined look on her face.

 

"I'm not backing down from this, Clarke... It's not in my nature," Lexa told her, seemingly steeling herself for Clarke's adamant refusal once more.

The blonde closed her eyes, contemplating an alarming number of unreasonable reactions as she attempted to quiet the alarm bells going off in her mind, old mantras re-surfacing to cycle through her mind.

_ This is dangerous... She's threatening everything your parents ever worked to build for you... You need to get rid of her . _

That last thought brought her up short. Since when did she become one to contemplate  _ murder _ as a means to solve her problems?! What the hell was wrong with her?!

_ You're not human, Clarke. You should not pretend to be like them, nor should you stoop to their level of idiocy... You were meant to rule them, not cower at their feet  _ _-_

 

" _ Enough _ _!!"_ Clarke shouted aloud, visibly startling Lexa as she began to tremble with rage.

She needed to breathe, she needed - she needed to  _get away._

Fixing the reporter with a distracted glare in an otherwise hostile expression, she did the only thing she knew how to do in these situations: she compromised.

_ If only for the sake of the girl's safety... _

 

"If I sit down with you and answer your stupid questions, do you promise to stay the hell away from me and my friends after that?" Clarke's voice was deadly quiet now, fighting against every fiber of her being not to do something rash.

Lexa nodded immediately, recognizing that it was in her best interest to take what she could get now.  Clarke huffed, not even bothering to so much as signal her departure as she turned on her heels towards home once more.

 

"Wait, Cla - Ms. Griffin!!" Lexa called from behind her, seemingly deciding not to physically pursue the blonde any further. "When are you free for the interview? And how should I contact you?"

Not bothering to look back, Clarke simply maintained her focus straight ahead, calling her response into the night air just loud enough for Lexa to hear.

 

"I'm sure you'll find me."

 

 

 

 

 


	2. The Interview

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow thank you so much for such a kind response to the first chapter!! It really motivated me to get this one completed for you guys, so I truly appreciate it (:  
> General housekeeping notes: just to clarify, the woman who came into the Talon with Lexa in the first chapter was, in fact, Anya. So, yes, she will have a part in this story (: Also, the plot of this story will (obviously) be in the same universe as Smallville and there will definitely be some similarities. However, expect it to pretty much be a somewhat original plotline going forward - though I will do my best to maintain thematic consistencies. 
> 
> Enjoy!! (:

 

 

 

 

Sure enough, first thing the next morning, Lexa did just that.

 

Clarke was sprawled out beneath her father's favorite tractor circa 1973, working away at screwing the newly-repaired engine-protector back into place while keeping the hull suspended off the ground above her head with one hand. She'd almost fully secured the bolt back into place when she picked up on the sound of new tires turning onto the gravel of her long driveway that began nearly a mile away from the barn. Clarke didn't have to venture much of a guess as to who her visitor might be at such an ungodly hour...

Nearly growling in frustration, Clarke slid easily from beneath the tractor, placing it back on the ground as gently as possible so as to not draw any extra attention to what she'd been doing. Straightening up and throwing the wrench down on the ground with an ungratified thud, Clarke turned to Shelby who'd been watching her patiently from a couple yards away. The dog began to wag her tail upon seeing the blonde's attention now directed back at her.

 

"Do me a favor, will ya?" Clarke whispered conspiratorially, fighting the urge to smile as Shelby's head quirked to the side in an adorable attempt to understand her. "When she gets out of the car, bite her."

Shelby looked beyond confused at the request, and Clarke huffed a sigh of defeat as she made to trudge out of the barn, mentally preparing herself for what was to come.

 

As she stepped out into the glaring morning sunlight beyond the big red doors of the barn, she watched a pristinely spotless silver Mercedes squeal to a stop on the gravel a few feet in front of her, its driver suddenly focused on checking her appearance in the front mirror as if out of nervous habit. Clarke felt herself becoming more and more self-conscious by the second, glancing down at her greasy overalls above a soiled white t-shirt and bare feet covered in soot and grime, her hair tied back in a messy bun. She mentally chastised herself for forgetting to put on shoes; she never usually needed them, as her bare skin was enough to protect her from any and every rough surface this planet had to offer, but she realized it might appear odd to any casual observer coming across a farm worker devoid of protective footwear.

 

Before she could make a move to scramble for the pair of work-boots leaning against the outside of the barn door, her train of thought was interrupted by the opening of a car door and the distinguished crunch of heels stepping out onto gravel. Almost instinctually, Clarke's eyes locked onto Lexa's lithe frame as she stepped out of her vehicle, straightening up and brushing herself off - as if it were possible for the farm dust to settle on her in the two whole seconds she'd been outside of the safe confines of luxury. The brunette wore a light blue button-down tucked into form-fitting tan slacks that met white open-toed wedges adorning perfectly-manicured feet, hair pulled back into that same tight bun with glasses framing her face.

Clarke knew she was staring - could feel it in the way her eyes lingered so hungrily on the feminine curve of the girl's hips and unapologetically roved her frame -, and she couldn't seem to reconcile her dry mouth and racing heart with the automatic dismay that coursed through her at the very sight of the reporter.

_ She's a danger to you... The only thing that will come out of this is grief... _

 

Mentally shooing those thoughts away, Clarke willed herself to keep calm. She couldn't afford to lose it around Lexa like she'd almost done the night before. Hostility would arouse even more suspicion and she, at the very least, needed to attempt to be somewhat reasonable around this girl. It wasn't like she was actually  _ intending _ to ruin Clarke's life...

 

"Does it smell strange to you? Something smells strange... Or... _ off,  _ maybe ..."

The first words out of Lexa's mouth were as wholly unexpected as her visit, and Clarke had to swallow a bit of laughter as the reporter looked around as if simultaneously perplexed and offended.

 

"That would be fresh air, Ms. Woods," Clarke replied smoothly, reaching down to pat Shelby's head where the dog had sidled up to be beside her.

She was a little disappointed that her proposition to the dog had fallen on deaf ears, and she supposed she shouldn't have been surprised that the docile bundle of fluff and sloppy kisses at her feet would make for an exceptionally underwhelming guard dog.

"And good morning to you, too." With that, Clarke headed off towards the main house, Shelby at her heels, leaving a comically bewildered Lexa gawking after her.

 

It took all of a single breath for the reporter to hurry after her, immediately following at her heels almost as closely as Shelby now. Clarke sighed a little under her breath as she clomped up the stairs to the front door, stopping dead in her tracks the moment she grasped onto the door handle. She felt more than heard Lexa struggle to avoid bumping into her back, nearly stumbling over Shelby as she did so.

 

"What happens if I don't invite you in?" Clarke inquired quietly, not looking at Lexa as the reporter continued to quite literally breathe down the back of her neck. She felt the brunette shift behind her.

 

"Then I'll probably just stand out here and shout my questions at you until you get tired of hearing the sound of my voice," Lexa responded just as quietly, quick as a whip.

Clarke pivoted, barely avoiding using inhuman speed to turn around and stare into wide green eyes that only just appeared to have registered their proximity, torsos nearly brushing together now. The sudden spike in Lexa's heart rate and the nearly inaudible intake of breath was enough to throw Clarke off her line of questioning for a moment, and she simply stared at the brunette as immeasurable seconds ticked by, strange currents flickering between them.

 

"You're not gonna let this go, are you?" Clarke finally spoke up, voice a much raspier whisper than she'd intended. Lexa gulped, appearing to fight with everything she had to remain nonchalant for some reason.

 

"Like I said before - it's not in my nature."

 

With an exhausted sigh, Clarke nodded in something like begrudging acceptance, opening the door and stepping inside to hold it open for the reporter who looked almost shocked when the blonde gestured for her to enter. Lexa promptly stepped through the threshold after that, moving inside to gape at the homey decor of the large house.

Clarke shut the door behind her, already regretting having opened it in the first place.

 

 

 

\---------------------------------------

 

 

 

"I take it you're not much of a dog person," Clarke asserted, eyebrow raised as she watched Lexa's nose wrinkle at the sight of Shelby bounding towards her where she sat opposite Clarke at the breakfast table.

Lexa stiffened as the retriever came right up to her and promptly plunked her head down into the reporter's lap, and Clarke had to press her lips together in order to stifle laughter.

 

"It's not... Well, it has more to do with my allergies than a... _ preference _ ," Lexa allowed, scooting as far back in her chair from Shelby as she could while the dog appeared oblivious. She huffed, exasperated. "Can't you call her back to you or something?"

Clarke actually did chuckle this time.

 

"Aw, c'mon now," she drawled, tone dripping with barely-contained mirth. "We rarely get any visitors around here... Who am I to deny her the friendly company when it finally turns up?"

Lexa narrowed her eyes at the blonde, pursing her lips and looking like she wanted to argue. Clarke wasn't going to let her get her way, though \-  not even for a second.

 

"I  _ am _ curious, though...," Clarke continued, leaning forward with a smile playing at her lips as she regarded the suddenly-apprehensive brunette. "How'd you get my address? Don't tell me it was one of my traitorous friends..."

Lexa gulped, shifting in her seat a bit where Shelby continued to weigh her down.

 

"Yellow Pages," she answered shortly, raising a brow as if daring Clarke to question her.  The blonde guffawed at that, causing Lexa to flinch back a little in her seat.

_ She's awfully jumpy, isn't she? _

 

"Yeah, right," Clarke countered, hiding her eye roll with a shake of her head. "It was probably Raven, wasn't it? Or Octavia, maybe? What'd she do, trade you my address for a 150-word review in the  _ Planet?" _

Lexa winced, hands coming up to rest awkwardly on the wooden table before her. Shelby had retreated to Clarke's side by that point, clearly having sensed a lost battle with the reporter.

 

"200, actually. And a photograph... She told me you'd only talk to me if I came first thing in the morning, though." Clarke nodded, having suspected as much.

 

"Nice to know what my privacy's worth, then," the blonde acquiesced, leaning back to recline lazily in her chair and crossing her arms over her chest as she studied Lexa.

The other girl was clearly aiming for neutrality, and Clarke had to admire her persistence in maintaining the professional facade.

 

It'd stayed in place pretty much every moment since she'd entered the blonde's house, not even cracking when Clarke had returned downstairs from showering off and caught the reporter shuffling through the drawers of the hutch by the kitchen. She'd heard Lexa snooping around from the moment she'd turned on the water faucet upstairs, and she was somewhat disappointed that the girl's reaction to being caught red-handed wasn't even remotely abashed.

Sitting here staring at each other in a tense and strangely-weighted silence wasn't doing much to take the edge off, either. Clarke supposed she'd simply have to wait for her shining opportunity to throw the reporter off her game, as it was quickly becoming her most immediate and pressing goal in life.

 

"Shall we get started?" Lexa inquired politely, moving to retrieve a pen and pad from her purse that she'd hung over the back of the chair.

Clarke shrugged, aiming for cool nonchalance now, as well.

 

"Do you mind if I record this? For accuracy purposes, of course," the brunette continued, eyeing Clarke carefully from the corner of her vision where she continued to rummage through her bag.

Clarke shrugged again.

Lexa turned back to face the blonde with a look of displeasure crossing her features now.

 

"You're going to have to answer the questions  _ verbally _ , you know," the reporter told her quietly, expression calm though appearing to search Clarke's face for something.

Clarke smirked crookedly at her, pleased that she was at least somewhat annoying the girl already.

"We'll see about that," she allowed, causing the brunette's mouth to fall open a little before she could catch herself.

 

With every passing minute, Clarke's level of enjoyment at the reporter's strange reaction to her was increasing at an exponential rate. It was as if Clarke's presence, alone, was enough to cause the wires in the brunette's tightly-wound brain to short-circuit, her only defense the carefully stoic expression she seemed to put in place at even the slightest hint of discomfort as her heart rate seemed to soar.  _ Why _ she was reacting to Clarke that way was a different story entirely, and one the blonde couldn't quite piece together...

Was she always this strange around the subjects she stalked and cornered for a feature piece?

 

"Let's start with something simple...," Lexa trailed off, glancing down at her notepad beneath hands now clasped in front of her. "How long have you lived in Smallville, Ms. Griffin?"

 

"23 years - born and raised... I told you that last night, Ms. Woods," Clarke replied, quirking a curious brow as the reporter swallowed. Lexa shuffled a little awkwardly in her seat.

 

"Of course... Were you much of an athlete growing up?" Clarke tilted her head to the side, feigning innocence, working her jaw as her heart rate picked up a little.

She already didn't like where this was headed...

 

"I was never much for sports, to be honest with you... Too slow, I think," Clarke confided evenly, shrugging a little as hints of wry amusement danced in her eyes.

If she could keep it vague and seem as normal and  _ boring _ as possible, everything might actually turn out alright...

Lexa seemed displeased with her answer for whatever reason, glancing down at her notepad again as if suddenly unsure of herself. Even with Clarke's exceptional vision, she could barely make out the chicken scratch that was apparently supposed to be the reporter's handwriting. 

Suddenly, Lexa leaned forward, her expression measured and calculating, her lips pressed into a hard line. Clarke had to fight the urge to shift back in her chair at the intensity of the gaze directed her way.

 

"Look, Ms. Griffin, I'm going to cut to the chase here, if that's alright," the reporter stated, ever the neutral being. Clarke inclined her head in a gesture of permission.

 

"Please do."

Lexa nodded, seemingly having expected as much. She took a deep breath, steeling herself against whatever she was about to say. Clarke's heart stuttered a little nervously in her chest, unsure of what to expect.

 

"When you were 13 years old, you were seen single-handedly carrying an old man out of his house as it crumbled to the ground in a raging fire. You somehow walked away without a single burn on your body, despite multiple witness reports stating that the house was  _completely_   enveloped in flames..."  _ Not good... _

"Your freshman year of high school, a bus carrying the entire Smallville High School football team crashed through the metal railings of a bridge above the main highway going 50 miles an hour - heading over a good twenty-foot drop, mind you -, and yet it somehow ended up right back on the bridge without a single person harmed. Though there weren't any witnesses to the actual incident, all posthumous accident reports state that you were seen carrying some of the football players out of the bus after it  _ miraculously _ managed not to fly over the edge."  _ Shit, shit, shit... _

"The list seems to go on-and-on - not to mention the fact that every single reported interaction with one of the meteor-infected individuals identified in this town seems to have your name in there somewhere... The one that  _ really _ baffles me, though - "

Lexa swallowed, cutting herself off and finally allowing for a breath to be taken mid-tirade. Her eyes were rapidly scanning Clarke's face now, searching for any sign of a reaction as she delivered blow after blow to the blonde's careful facade.

Clarke was frozen, nails digging so hard into her jean-clad thighs that she'd legitimately torn through the fabric without realizing it - probably would've torn into her skin, too, if it were possible. Every muscle in her body was locked tight, adrenaline coursing through her as her body prepared for a full-scale fight-or-flight response to what the reporter was about to say next - what Clarke knew was inevitable at this point. She prayed that Lexa couldn't hear the racing of her heart as it threatened to beat out of her chest, though she knew her expression betrayed none of these things - or, at least, she hoped not.

Lexa cleared her throat, leaning forward until her torso was pressing into the edge of the wooden table, eyes ablaze with intensity - prepared to deliver the fatal blow.

 

"When you were 18 years old, you were riding in the passenger seat of your boyfriend, Finn Collins's, pickup truck when the two of you collided head-on with a semi going 70 miles an hour... Both drivers were killed upon impact, and you were thrown through the front windowshield, as the accident report states that you weren't wearing a seat belt during the time of the collision."

Lexa's eyes were boring straight into the depths of Clarke's soul now, rifling through its contents with the expert prowess of one being privy to its deepest, darkest secrets. For the first time in her life, Clarke believed she knew what it felt like to be drowning.

"You walked away with nothing but torn clothing , Ms. Griffin... How is that even  _ possible?  _ How is it possible for one human being to survive something that should've  _ killed them _ upon impact with nothing but  _ torn clothing?!" _

It felt as if all the air had been forced out of Clarke's lungs through a straw, her insides nearly clawing at themselves with the depth of her agony at having to relive one of the most painful memories of her existence. Images of blood splatters, mangled bodies, broken glass, and shredded metal flashed beneath her eyelids with every blink, time becoming nothing but a cruel reminder of the nature of her current predicament.

The despair she found herself swept up in must've been plainly evident on her face because, before Clarke could even process what was happening, Lexa was suddenly there, crouching down beside the blonde and looking up at her with wide green eyes brimming with concern. Shelby was there, too, sitting on the blonde's other side and panting as if she could sense her owner's distress. Clarke simply stared straight ahead, unseeing.

 

"I'm sorry, Cla-Ms. Griffin," Lexa whispered, voice ragged and surprisingly pained.

When Clarke didn't meet her gaze, Lexa gently took one of the blonde's hands in both of her own, wrapping it in slender fingers calloused by hours spent writing and typing away on a keyboard - her greatest weapon.

"I just - do you...," Lexa's voice was impossibly soft, poking at Clarke's racing heart in strange and uncomfortable ways. "Can you tell me anything about what happened? Any details about the accident - what you saw or felt, maybe? Were you - ?"

 

"I don't remember anything," Clarke finally responded, cutting the brunette off with a tone as dull and flat as the knife that was currently carving out her chest.

That might've been the worst lie she'd ever told.  _ Of course _ she remembered everything - every single second that passed from the time the vehicles had collided... How could she possibly forget?

After all, it was the impact of  _ her body  _ being thrown through the windshield and into the truck driver that had shattered every bone in the man's body, killing him instantly as his human frame had never stood a chance against Clarke's leaden weight. She'd then crashed straight through the metal of the containment box he'd been transporting, tearing the compartment open as she soared through to the other side. The locked back doors of the box had been blown off with the force of her body smashing into them, and Clarke had been thrown clear through to the other side, rolling onto the pavement a few yards behind the semi. Lexa had been right, of course; the only evidence that Clarke had been involved in the crash at all were the torn remains of clothing that'd hung off her undamaged frame in tatters, her hair mussed and disheveled from having been propelled through multiple metal barriers.

Even knowing it was a lost cause - having been unable to detect the sound of any heartbeats coming from the wreckage -, she'd still flashed over to Finn's side in an instant, easily ripping his door off its hinges and throwing it nearly a mile behind her, uncaring about where it landed as she'd been in an almost-feral haze as her long-dormant Kryptonian side took over... The moment Clarke had realized that not even  _she_   was strong enough to remove Finn from the truck where his body had seemingly merged with the wreckage, though, she swore she'd never screamed louder - had never allowed such an inhuman sound to tear from her throat in raw and uninhibited agony as it was. She'd collapsed to the ground, caving in on herself as her body had been wracked by sobs personifying the purest form of misery - the epitome of human suffering...

In the end, it was her father's gentle voice in the back of her mind urging her to protect herself - her secret - that had guided her limbs to cooperate, crawling so that she was sprawled in a somewhat believable position on the pavement based on where she figured her trajectory from the windshield might've thrown her. After that, Clarke had simply closed her eyes, dwindling in and out of unconsciousness for the first time in her life, begging for an absolution that would never come.

 

She was as good as dead for a long time after that...

 

"Clarke? Clarke,  _ please _ talk to me... I'm  so sorry, I didn't mean to - "

The sound of Lexa's remorseful ramblings finally registered in the blonde's mind, coaxing her out of her hazy memories as she realized she was still staring blindly ahead, completely tuning the reporter out where the woman crouched beside her, having let go of her hand now.

 

Standing abruptly - and, perhaps, with a little too much force than was necessary -, Clarke pushed her chair back and swiftlymade her way over to the front door, holding it open for the reporter who had all but fallen back on her ass in surprise at the blonde's sudden movements.

"I think it would be best if we continued this some other time, Ms. Woods," Clarke stated flatly, all cold formality now, not bothering to look over at Lexa whom she knew to be positively floundering at the moment. "Maybe never."

Clarke heard more than saw the reporter scrambling to her feet, quickly gathering her supplies and making her way over to where the blonde stood mechanically by the door, unseeing.

 

"Clarke,  please \- "

 

"Goodbye, Ms. Woods," Clarke cut her off, placing her hand on the brunette's shoulder where she stood just a foot away, lightly guiding the girl over and out of the threshold, closing and locking the door behind her.

Icy depths of blue met desperate and burning forests of green through the window in the door, and Clarke simply couldn't bear it any longer... Turning on her heels without so much as a word, she headed through the kitchen and up the stairs to her bedroom with Shelby at her heels, leaving the reporter helplessly calling after her from the front porch.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Clarke sat on the edge of her mattress now lying on the floor, knees tucked up to her chest with her head resting between them as she heaved empty sobs, Shelby nudging occasionally at her calf. She didn't know how long it'd been since she'd left Lexa standing there, and it had taken even longer for the reporter to finally give up on calling to her and leave.

For the first time in her life, Clarke had decided to take a sick day. She'd texted Octavia the moment she'd gotten up to her room, claiming to have come down with some sort of stomach bug, and she'd had to fight off tears as her friend left multiple voicemails and texts, obviously concerned about the blonde's unprecedented illness.

 

Though she knew she shouldn't have, Clarke had been listening to Lexa from the moment the reporter had stopped knocking on her door, morbid curiosity driving her hypersensitive hearing to track the reporter as she made her way out of the blonde's driveway. Curiously enough, the brunette had sat in her car for quite some time after abandoning the porch, heart racing in her chest as she seemed to heave painfully-labored breaths behind the wheel of her Mercedes. Clarke had been on the verge of going out and checking on Lexa - afraid that she might be going into some sort of cardiac arrest - when the girl had started up her vehicle and slowly made her way off of the Griffin property.

 

Clarke quirked her head to the side a little now as she listened to what she believed to be the sound of Lexa dialing a number on her cell phone, interest peaked as the phone began to ring.

It picked up almost immediately.

"Hey, Lex. How'd it go?" A female voice came over the receiver, tone bored and somewhat sultry.

 

"I fucked up, Anya. I fucked  _ everything _ up," Lexa practically whimpered into the phone, voice uncharacteristically trembling. Clarke's heart lurched in her chest for some reason. "It was like I'd never even  _ heard _ of ethics before, I - "

 

"Woah, woah, woah, slow down there, kid," the woman - Anya - interrupted the girl, concern now obvious in her tone. "What do you mean? What happened? Just take a breath and tell me what happened, kid..."

Anya was speaking to Lexa like an older sibling might, all calm and comfort offered through simple words and easy tones. Even Clarke - the voyeur that she was - found herself strangely pacified by it...

 

"I just... I don't know," Lexa almost whispered, sounding incredibly distraught, her luxury engine humming quietly in the background, speed increasing much too quickly. "I just feel so... _ off _ around her, and I can't - I just... Y-you should've seen her  _ face _ , Anya... I swear I - "

The reporter seemed to choke on her words, abruptly silencing her incoherent babbling as she attempted to regain her composure. Clarke was... _ confused _ , to say the least...

"Where are you?" Lexa asked suddenly, the change of subject as jarring as her strangely authoritative tone now.

 

"Exactly where I told you I'd be, Lex," Anya answered immediately, seemingly un-phased by the turn in the conversation, "that coffee shop, the Claw - or wait, no... The  _ Talon _ , that's it! The people in this town are an odd fucking bunch, lemme tell ya - "

Anya's rambling was brutally interrupted by the piercing sound of Lexa's scream, the squealing of tires as the reporter seemed to swerve around some sort of obstacle in the road. The instant Clarke heard the sound of metal crunching against concrete - the sound of the car beginning a deadly sideways flip -, it was as if time stopped right along with Clarke's heart.

 

Guided as if by instinct, Clarke was up and off the bed like the force of a lightening strike, shooting down the staircase and crashing through the closed front door at a speed she'd never pushed herself to go before. She seemed to glide over the terrain on the breath of the wind, time still frozen around her as she blurred out of the driveway and onto the main road. The scenery was indiscernible as she traveled at the speed of sound - though her vision could pick up even the smallest of details on the blades of grass by the road, the tiny pebbles that comprised its surface -, determined to reach the car before it had the chance to complete a full rollover.

Sure enough, Clarke swiftly came upon the silver Mercedes now suspended in the air mid-way through the first roll - a leftward spiral that had begun on the driver's side -, all four tires up in the air as the top of the vehicle prepared to make contact with the ground. The force would be enough to do some serious damage to Lexa at the speed she was going - possibly even end her life.

Clarke couldn't let that happen.

 

Slowing down as she approached the vehicle, Clarke noticed what appeared to be ripples flowing out around her body now, almost as if she were wading through a thick body of water as time fought to re-claim her in its grasp. Skidding to a stop on the asphalt - still moving at a super sonic pace as she lined her now-stationary body up with the bumper of the overturned car in midair -, Clarke reached out and grabbed onto both sides of the trunk, arms appearing to clamp down on the rear of the vehicle like an alligator might snap its jaws down on prey.

The force was immediate.

 

Time re-started with a jolt, the loud crunch and creak of metal as the car protested having been so brutally halted from completing its intended trajectory the only sound for miles, the Mercedes now suspended upside-down in the air by Clarke's two hands. To the casual observer, one might've thought that the blonde had simply snatched a beach ball out of the air mid-flight. Only, that very much  wasn't the case, and, as Clarke quickly glanced every which way around her, she realized just how  _ impossibly lucky  _ she'd gotten that no one seemed to have been around to witness her risky little act of heroism.

 

As gently as she could manage, Clarke slowly rotated the car right-side-up and placed it back on the concrete with a barely-audible thud, obvious impressions of her hand left on the hood where it was just positioned - no doubt reflected on the underside, as well. The vehicle was angled sideways on the empty road, front fender hanging off the shoulder a ways, and Clarke couldn't make out much through the darkly-tinted back window.

Closing her eyes for a brief moment and relishing in the slow and steady heart beat coming from the driver's seat, Clarke breathed a sigh of relief as she realized that she'd, at least, kept Lexa  _ alive _ . Whether or not she'd just outed her secret was a completely different story...

 

Slowly, as if coming upon a trapped bear, Clarke walked up to the driver's side door, noting the broken glass that littered the asphalt at her feet. Her blood was roaring in her ears now, her hands trembling a little, her breath held as she prepared for the worst -

Lexa was _unconscious_ , slumped around the airbag that had deployed as soon as the car had started rolling - the thing that had most likely knocked her out in the first place. Clarke nearly fist-pumped into the air, thoroughly disbelieving her continued streak of luck at this point.

Lexa was  unconscious . She hadn't seen what Clarke had done.  _ Your secret's safe for now, you absolute fucking moron... _

 

_ Lexa's safe... _

 

Nearly giddy with the depth of her relief, Clarke pulled the car door open, puncturing the airbag with the nail of her pointer finger and watching as it immediately deflated. Doing a quick once-over of Lexa's body with her x-ray vision to determine if the reporter was safe to move, Clarke took stock of the girl's injuries: a dislocated left shoulder, a cracked rib, and a slew of tiny little cuts from the broken glass that went everywhere - nothing too serious. Letting out a breath she didn't know she'd been holding, Clarke leaned over the unconscious brunette and unbuckled her seatbelt, sliding her arms beneath the girl and cradling her in a bridal-style hold. She brushed the stray hairs that'd come loose from the girl's tight bun away from her face, actively ignoring the painful throbbing of her heart as she did so.

Why did the reporter have to be so _impossibly_ gorgeous even covered in cuts and bruises as she was?

 

It was only after Clarke had gently removed Lexa from her totaled vehicle that the blonde had registered Anya's frantic shouting coming from the cell phone that had fallen onto the passenger floorboard.

Huffing in frustration and working her jaw a little bit, Clarke re-adjusted Lexa against her chest, not pausing to look back at the wreckage as she took off back towards the farm like a bullet in the night, fully intent on driving the reporter to the hospital straight away. An ambulance would take too long, and she'd have far too much explaining to do with the current state of Lexa's vehicle, anyways. She'd have to come back and re-arrange some things later...

Her first priority was getting Lexa the proper medical attention that she needed - nothing more, nothing less. Everything else would simply have to wait until... _ later ... _

 

As Clarke revved the engine of her ancient pick-up truck to life, Lexa safely buckled into the passenger seat beside her - still out like a light -, the blonde couldn't help but wonder...

_ What have I gotten myself into now? _

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully that car scene went off as well as it did in my head hahaha. Also, if any of you are thinking that Lexa jumps the gun or is acting extremely unprofessional around Clarke, you're right.. Wonder why that is? (; their dynamic will definitely be explored in coming chapters..  
> Please let me know what you think!! I always love you feedback (:


	3. Formal Introductions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, so sorry to leave you hanging for so long!! Life got in the way as it tends to do, especially with mid-terms and all of that jazz. I'm definitely gonna try not to do that to y'all anymore haha.  
> The response to this story has been amazing, and I sincerely appreciate it!! I tried to give you guys a longer chapter tonight, so I hope you like it.
> 
> Enjoy!! (:

 

 

 

 

Clarke hated hospitals.

Everything about them - from the chemical smells to the fluorescent lighting that illuminated every hallway. It wasn't that she hated doctors or anything like that; in fact, she'd actually wanted to be a surgeon until her parents had talked her out of it, claiming it would require too many tests, too many background checks...

Beyond that, they just weren't the place for her. Not even the quaint little waiting room of Smallville General was enough to ease her tension, calm her racing heart as she sat in the uncomfortable wooden chair, tapping her fingers against the edges of the armrest.

She needed to get out of here, get back to where she'd left Lexa's car and re-arrange some things - namely, get rid of the handprints on either side of the trunk...

 

Clarke couldn't believe she'd been so reckless, so  _ stupid _ . To catch a car in broad daylight and take off like a lightening bolt with an unconscious woman in her arms - not to mention the fact that the woman was a  _ reporter _ , hell-bent on exposing the blonde's deepest, darkest secrets and splashing them across the front page of the  _ Daily Planet _ for all to see...

 _ Why _ she'd saved Lexa was another story entirely... Clarke was accustomed to helping from the shadows, aiding in various accidents over the years when lives would've been lost without her, but this was different. She hadn't felt this protective over a human being in quite some time, rivaling only her closest friends and family - though only her parents knew her secret, knew the reason  _ why _ she was so capable of protecting them in the first place...

It unsettled her, the feeling wholly foreign and entirely uncomfortable as it seemed to settle in her chest like an anchor to her stomach. This instinct to shield, to care for, to watch over -

 

"Ms. Griffin?" the nurse's soft voice drew her out of her troubled revery, the elderly woman standing before her with a kind smile gracing her features, clipboard in hand.

Clarke was up like a shot, narrowly avoiding moving a little  _ too _ fast as she stepped towards the woman, brows furrowing with a strange amount of concern for whatever reason. She knew that Lexa was okay, had made sure of it at the scene of the accident -

"Ms. Woods is resting comfortably, her injuries thankfully easy to recover from... It seems you pulled her out of her vehicle just in time," the nurse told her, still smiling kindly at the blonde. "Unfortunately, since you're neither family nor spouse, I cannot espouse any more of her medical information to you... What I  _ can _ tell you, though, is that the woman you had me call - Anya Sullivan, the cousin - is by Ms. Woods's side now, and the two of them are catching up nicely."

Clarke nodded, sighing a little in unnecessary relief as her gaze darted to the floor.

She knew Anya was with Lexa, and had been from the moment the other reporter had come barreling through the doors to the hospital, intent on giving every nurse in her sight living hell until they let the woman back to see her cousin - a familial relationship that surprised Clarke somewhat. She'd had to fight against every instinct within her not to eavesdrop on the conversation inevitably happening in Lexa's recovery room, knowing that it would be best for her to distance herself while she still could...

 

"That's...great to hear. Thank you," Clarke told the woman quietly, inclining her head politely as she began to feel somewhat awkward all of a sudden. "I should...probably be going, then..."

 

"Actually, Ms. Woods has asked for you," the nurse told her, stepping forward slightly when she saw Clarke's body language shifting as if the blonde was prepared to walk away. "She has been ever since she woke up - ever since I told her that you were the one who brought her in, really... Visiting hours are still going on, so you're more than welcome to go back."

Clarke cringed a little bit, overwhelmed by the desire to stay and fulfill Lexa's request while simultaneously knowing that she needed to do what was right, needed to clean up after her mess - needed to be anywhere but  _ here _ , frankly...

 

"No, that's... I shouldn't," Clarke told the nurse quietly, backing up a little as the woman fixed her with a confused look. "Just, uh... Tell her that I'm glad she's alright, would you? Please."

 

"Of course, Ms. Griffin," the nurse agreed immediately, smiling sympathetically at the blonde now - which made her all the more anxious to go. "It was a good thing you did... Have a nice rest of your day."

 

"You, too."

With that, Clarke spun on her heels and was off, narrowly avoiding cutting the corner of the wall to the waiting room - a move which would've thoroughly damaged the structure of the building, most likely - as she all but ran out of the hospital.

 

Once she was well into the parking lot, Clarke keeled over, hands braced on her thighs as she breathed through the odd reaction her body was having - against every instinct that was telling her to run back into the hospital and park herself at Lexa's side like a well-trained guard dog.

_ What the hell is wrong with me?! _

 

" Shake it off, Griffin... Come on," she told herself, shaking her head against whatever this was and walking the remaining distance to her truck.

Clarke couldn't focus on this madness anymore. She had to just cover her tracks and move on...

She could do this.

 

She would have to.

 

 

 

 

\-----------------------------------------

 

 

 

 

Stars dusted the sky for miles in every direction, and Clarke sighed in contentment as she continued her leisurely walk down the gravelly shoulder of the main road adjacent to her house. A powerful gust of wind added to the chill of the cool night air, and she hugged her over-sized khaki jacket a little closer to her body over her red flannel - if only out of habit.

Her weekly walks to the cemetery were always pleasant, a welcome relief from the occasional monotony her life in Smallville had a tendency to fall into. She was excited to see him this week, anticipating the comfort he would bring her after such a draining day.

 

Luckily for Clarke, the main road was never crowded - nearly as vacant as the small town, itself -, and it'd been all too easy to re-arrange Lexa's car the way she'd wanted it after getting back from the hospital, adding a few dents here and there based on how she figured the car would've landed had she not been there. She tried not to dwell on the fact that the finished product disturbed her somewhat, reminding herself of her earlier mantra:

_ Cover your tracks and move on... _

Clarke had then called a tow truck, literally and figuratively ridding herself of this problem for good - or, at least, she hoped so...

 

Afterwards, she'd taken advantage of her first "sick day" in 23 years, changing into sweats and a ratty old t-shirt to marathon some classic movies on the worn sofa in her living room. She'd only just managed to convince Octavia and Raven not to worry about her, having to talk them out of wasting unnecessary "get-well" supplies on account of her unprecedented illness. They'd begrudgingly taken her word for it, knowing how the blonde liked her space, and Clarke was oddly at peace after that.

If only for this one day in her entire life, she'd allowed herself to forget the disastrous morning she'd had and simply focus on  _ Clarke _ . Rest, recharge, and pamper herself, even - a mental health day for the record book of Clarke Griffin's life. She'd had to disconnect her landline and turn off her cell phone to do it, though, as her phones would  _ not _ stop ringing with calls from a certain reporter she was determined to avoid for as long as possible. The blonde didn't even want to  know how Lexa had managed to get both of her phone numbers in the mere span of hours...

So, here she was, out for a quiet stroll to see her father, not a piece of technology on her person, overtaken by pure and utter bliss. Cicadas made their music in the trees on either side of the road, the only other sound the crinkle of newspaper surrounding the flowers she'd picked from her garden a short while before -

 

Suddenly, a small red sports car zoomed past Clarke in a flash, catching her by surprise and ripping her out of her peaceful revery as the force of the wind it generated flapped her jacket about and ruffled a few stray strands of hair not captured in the messy bun on her head. The force would've been enough to knock any normal person on their ass, the car going at a speed that was neither legal in the state of Kansas nor recommended. As it were, though, the blonde barely felt it pass, stopping in her tracks and simply peeved that the person thought that much of themselves that they would drive so recklessly.

Before she could even roll her eyes in annoyance, though, the car was suddenly screeching to a halt not 50 yards in front of her, tires squealing slightly as the driver immediately threw the car into reverse to make its way back to Clarke at a much more acceptable speed. The blonde's heart nearly plummeted into her stomach when the car stopped beside her, the passenger-side window rolling down to reveal the  _last_   person she wanted to see.

 

" _ Clarke? _ Are you  _ nuts?!" _ Lexa questioned her incredulously, leaning her head out the window and wincing at the movement a little bit, fixing the blonde with furrowed brows and an expression steeped in concern. Anya tried her best to get a good look at the blonde from the driver's seat, but the other girl obscured her view.

"What the hell are you doing walking down the highway in the middle of the night?! We could've  _killed you!!"_

Clarke tried to ignore the fact that her breath hitched at the sight of Lexa's face devoid of makeup, her thick hair falling over her shoulders in waves, framing her glasses so beautifully. She tried to ignore how her heart had lurched when Lexa had winced, when she studied the small cuts lining the girl's face, the sling settled over her left shoulder and holding her arm in place. She really did try...

Clearing her throat, the blonde aimed for the most nonchalant expression possible, doing her best not to show the slight internal meltdown she'd been having.

 

"It's 8 pm," Clarke stated matter-of-factly, drily, shaking her wrist a little to reveal the watch hidden beneath her long sleeve. "And you probably wouldn't be at risk of killing anybody if you didn't drive so fast."

With that, Clarke started forward again, painstakingly aware of the car that was now inching along beside her on the otherwise empty road. She simply stared straight ahead, unwilling to give them the satisfaction of seeing her flustered.

 

"Come on, Clarke... You know you shouldn't be walking so close to the road..." The blonde ignored the reporter in her periphery, speeding up a little bit and fighting off the urge to sigh as the car kept pace with her.

Anya was one hell of an accomplice, wasn't she?

 

"Clarke,  _ seriously _ ...," Lexa continued, sounding oddly worried now, as if she believed the blonde had gone off and lost her mind since the last time they'd seen each other. "What are you doing out here? Where are you going?"

Clarke stopped suddenly and turned to face them, satisfied when both women jerked forward against their seat belts a little bit as Anya was forced to pump the brake. Lexa's brows were furrowed, her eyes furiously scanning Clarke's face for any visible sign that the blonde had actually lost her mind. Clarke tried not to gulp under the intensity of it.

 

"For the record, I walk this road all the time and I've never had any problems with it before... It usually tends to be pretty safe when there aren't a couple of hot shots from the city testing their engine's horsepower on the empty roads for shits and giggles." Anya visibly shrunk back into her seat at that, Lexa's lips twitching as if the girl was having to fight back a smile all of a sudden, eyes sparking in amusement. The blonde hated what it did to her.

"As for the rest of your questions, I'd say it's none of your concern... Goodnight, Ms. Woods, Ms. Sullivan."

Deciding that it would probably be best for her to take the short-cut through the forest the rest of the way, Clarke turned on her heels and headed into the tree line without another word. Not three steps into the woods, though, her heart sank as she overheard the sound of a car door opening, of a heated discussion between the two women as it sounded like Anya was trying to keep Lexa from getting out and following Clarke - citing the girl's injuries as the main reason, of course.

Anya was apparently unsuccessful, though, as not a moment later Clarke heard the sound of hurried footsteps crunching over leaves not too far behind her.

 

"Come on, Clarke, are you really gonna make a girl with a broken rib chase after you?" Lexa called out, wheezing a little bit as Clarke turned to look at her, guilt crossing her features as she took in the sight of the reporter hunched over after only a few steps into her pursuit. The brunette was dressed more casually than Clarke had ever seen her, in simple blue jeans a shade darker than Clarke's with a loose grey sweater over dockers. It made Clarke's chest ache for some reason.

The blonde could just make out Anya's gaping expression where the woman still sat with her car door ajar, staring after her friend in disbelief. Clarke approached Lexa, cautiously reaching a hand out to place on the girl's uninjured shoulder, startling backwards when Lexa shot up straight at the contact as if she'd been burned, eyes widening a little.

"You should get back in the car, Lexa," Clarke told her gently, tone slightly concerned and wholly genuine. "You've been through a lot today and you need to rest... I promise I haven't lost my mind." She didn't know why she'd added that last part. It just felt like it needed to be said, was necessary to appease the girl's concerns. Lexa, for her part, seemed taken aback by the response for some reason - as if she'd expected a bit more hostility, maybe...

The reporter seemed to notice the flowers in Clarke's hand for the first time now, eyes narrowing as a slew of emotions flitted through them, her mind seeming to go into overdrive. After a moment, she straightened up even more, expression neutral as she gestured towards the flowers with a raised eyebrow.

 

"Daisies for a special someone, I take it?" she asked a little too casually, a little too aloof. "I didn't know they were in season..."

Clarke smiled crookedly at that, amused by Lexa's sudden change in demeanor.

 

"You could say that," the blonde allowed, grinning mischievously as Lexa's eyes narrowed even further. "And, in my experience, they bloom best in October."

Turning, she continued in her original direction - though, at a decidedly slower pace just in case...

Lexa caught up immediately, falling into step beside the blonde as they crunched over the leaves and headed through a much sparser section of forest. Clarke was surprised to pick up on the sound of a car door slamming shut, tires squealing off behind her, turning to look over her shoulder in puzzlement.

 

"I told her I'd let her know where to pick me up as soon as I figured it out," Lexa told her dismissively. "Why haven't you returned my calls? The nurse told me you were at the hospital this morning but you left as soon as she told you I was awake..."

The sudden change in the conversation threw Clarke off almost as much as the obviously grumpy tone of Lexa's voice. Not for the first time in Lexa's presence, the blonde was  _confused_.

 

" I figured you wouldn't want a stranger by your bedside first thing," Clarke offered, shrugging a little bit and glancing at Lexa in her peripheral vision, nearly tripping over a tree root when she found the brunette staring right at her.

 

"You're not a stranger," Lexa replied immediately, flatly, as if daring Clarke to challenge her.

The blonde sighed, shaking her head a little bit as Lexa continued to stare at her. They were almost at their destination now.

 

"I've had all of three encounters with you in my entire life, Ms. Woods - this being the third... That doesn't exactly scream familiarity to you, does it?" Clarke turned her head to more fully look at the girl, annoyed by the pounding of her heart that she swore had nothing to do with the piercing gaze following her every move.

"Besides, they haven't really been the most  _ pleasant _ of encounters, have they?"

 

"What's that supposed to mean?" Lexa retorted immediately, sounding unreasonably offended all of a sudden.

Before Clarke got the chance to respond, though, she was stopped short by a surprised squeak from Lexa, the sight of the brunette stumbling forwards as a result of her apparently having tripped over a protruding root in the ground - not having paid attention to her surroundings even remotely as closely as she should have been.

Without even thinking about it, Clarke was directly behind the girl, moving a little too quickly, hands shooting out to grasp Lexa by the hips, careful not to put pressure on the girl's rib as the blonde kept her from tumbling forwards. Lexa sucked in a sharp breath at the sudden halting of her forward momentum, almost instinctually leaning back into Clarke's body where the blonde still held her, slow to let go for whatever reason...

The moment Lexa glanced over her shoulder to fix Clarke with some indescribably heavy look that the blonde was neither familiar with nor comfortable being subjected to, she stepped away, clearing her throat awkwardly and moving to resume her walk without so much as a word. As expected, Lexa caught up with the blonde immediately, heart racing abnormally in her chest as she breathed a little too heavily.

Had she really been  _ that _ afraid of falling?

 

"Thanks for...that," Lexa spoke up after a moment, incredibly uncomfortable in Clarke's periphery. The blonde glanced over, actively ignoring the odd blush on Lexa's cheeks as she shrugged it off.

 

The next moment, they broke through the tree line and were confronted by a tall wrought-iron fence, the clear sky dotted with stars now perfectly visible up above them. Clarke watched Lexa's jaw quite literally drop open as the brunette noticed what was beyond the fence, but she decided against saying anything to the girl, simply veering off to the left to make her way over to the hidden side gate. Lexa was on her heels once more, heart rate spiking again all of a sudden.

 

"Why didn't you tell me you were - " the brunette cut herself off, gulping as she walked a little behind Clarke, out of the blonde's line of sight. "Why didn't you tell me that this was where you were headed? I wouldn't have... I didn't know - "

 

"You didn't have to follow me, Lexa," Clarke stated calmly, believing she may have made some mistake in using the reporter's name when the girl sucked in another small breath behind her.

She stopped then, turning to unlatch the gate to her right and push the door open, glancing beside her to find Lexa's eyes glued to her once again, far too intense...

 

"Yes, I did," Lexa replied firmly, eyebrows furrowing as her eyes darted across the blonde's face, scrutinizing -  _memorizing_ ,  even. "I wasn't about to let you go wandering off into the woods after dark all by yourself... No way in hell."

Clarke couldn't help the small smile that spread across her face at that, the way her heart warmed almost automatically at the sentiment behind the words.

_ Keep it together... Cover your tracks and move on, Griffin... _

The next words that came out of Clarke's mouth took both of them by surprise, as unexpected as their chance encounter had been in the first place tonight.

 

"I'd like to introduce you to someone," Clarke said quietly, quickly, almost as if she wished to take the words back as soon as she said them.

Upon seeing Lexa's blank look, she backtracked immediately, stuttering in her need to rectify the situation.

"I-I mean, if you'd like... You really don't have to, I just thought - "

 

"I'd like that very much," Lexa cut her off, mercifully genuine, all soft around the edges as if she actually  _ knew _ that was the way to ruin Clarke's life.

Fighting off whatever spell she was being put under, Clarke nodded, gesturing for Lexa to step through first - a move which had the reporter blushing an infuriatingly lovely color.

The two of them walked along the main cobblestone path leading away from the gate, passing a plethora of headstones and grave-markers in the process, everything so incredibly still around them. Clarke fell into step beside the suddenly nervous brunette, determined to ease the girl's anxiety in any way she could.

 

"He's not much of a talker, so you'll have to forgive him in advance," Clarke informed the reporter casually, wryly, shrugging nonchalantly. "One of those strong, silent types, I guess... You get used to it eventually."

Lexa was full-on gaping at her now, looking more uncomfortable and unsure of herself than the blonde had even seen her. Clarke wanted to reach out and grab her hand, comfort her in some way, but she knew how vastly inappropriate that would be given the nature of their "relationship." They weren't even  _ friends _ _,_ for god's sake...

Clarke needed to get it together  _ fast . _

_ This is insanity... You need to walk her back outside of that gate and lock it, tell her you never want to see her again, tell her to leave you alone... It is the only way - _

 

Clarke stepped off of the path and began heading left, counting the three headstones whose owners' names she'd memorized before she got to the small marble slab imbedded into the ground, lettering clear and beautiful against the dark stone. Clarke had emptied all of her savings out to pay for it those two short years ago, determined not to allow her mother to spend a single penny of her retirement fund on the custom-carved marble for her late husband. If it'd been up to Jake Griffin, though, he would've simply had them bury his ashes near his favorite lake in Smallville, but her mother never would've allowed it.

Funerals were for the living, after all...

 

Clarke bent to place the daisies on the stone, moving back to stand beside a stunned Lexa and shoving her hands into her jacket pockets. The brunette was frozen, eyes wide as she stared at the marble, seemingly in shock.

Clarke cleared her throat.

 

"Lexa, I'd like you to meet my dad. Dad, Lexa," Clarke spoke softly, casually, as if it would've been possible for her father to reach out and shake the reporter's hand. Lexa just stood there, heart pounding, unmoving.

Clarke swallowed against the growing lump in her throat, determined to get the girl to respond in some way, assure the blonde that she hadn't totally misstepped here...

 

"He thinks you're very beautiful, but he's a little disappointed you didn't bring him any flowers," Clarke informed the girl, eyes dancing with mirth, doing her best to hide the racing of her own heart and the blush that colored her cheeks when she realized what she'd just admitted.

Lexa whipped around then, fixing Clarke with an expression so intense, so  _ vulnerable _ , that the blonde nearly took an involuntary step back. She fought against it, though, digging her hands deeper into her pockets in the attempt to steady herself. She cleared her throat again, continuing.

"Frankly, I'm offended he didn't think my bouquet was good enough... He knows how much I pride myself on my daisies."

Lexa's eyes softened to an impossible degree at that, watering a little bit as she took a step towards Clarke, looking like she wanted to reach out but stopping herself short.

 

"Tell him I would've brought some had I known, but I guess I just thought yours would be more than good enough for the both of us," Lexa confided quietly, so incredibly gently, eyes dancing to the same tune of Clarke's now. She was going to play along.

"Besides, I would've dressed better if I'd known I'd be meeting the parents already." The brunette's eyebrows wiggled playfully at that, smiling crookedly as Clarke snorted.

 

"Oh, _please_... He says he's not one for boisterous first impressions, anyways," Clarke told the girl matter-of-factly, satisfied when Lexa's grin widened, lighting her features beautifully. Clarke had to be careful not to stare.

"He wants to know your intentions with his daughter, and if he call you Lexa... He's always so weird about things like that."

 

"Of course he can," Lexa answered immediately, easily. "I'd actually prefer it if he did..." The brunette moved closer, standing barely a foot from Clarke now, the two girls face-to-face.

"He sure gets straight to the point, doesn't he?"

Clarke tried to ignore the traces of mint on Lexa's breath, the occasional darting of the reporter's eyes down to her lips, the lingering stare...

She really did try.

 

"He's never been one to mince words," Clarke rasped, nearly whispering as she fought the urge to turn and run. No one ever usually got to her like this...

"It's not in his nature."

Lexa smirked at that, pleased to have her own words thrown back at her now, seemingly invigorated by the challenge.

 

"An admirable quality in a person, I'd say," the brunette acquiesced, gaining the slightest bit of her confidence back now. "As for my intentions, tell him... Tell him you'd make for one hell of a front page story, in my opinion."

Clarke tsked at that, shaking her head a little in mock disapproval, moving to cross her arms over her chest and narrowly avoiding brushing against Lexa in the process, the reporter still occupying her personal bubble.

 

"I'm not sure that's gonna cut it, Woods."

 

"Lexa," the brunette insisted immediately, adamant. "Both of you, just.... Call me Lexa."

Clarke quirked an eyebrow, arms still crossed, waiting. Lexa seemed to remember herself then, spine straightening even more.

 

"Fine... Tell him...," Lexa struggled for a moment, burst of confidence suddenly gone as her eyes darted between Clarke and the grave, legitimately nervous - as if a lot was riding on her response.

_ Perhaps it was... _

" Tell him I'm...fascinated... By you."

The words hit Clarke in strange ways, seeping into her chest to synchronize with the rhythm already beating there. It certainly wasn't an unpleasant feeling...

 

"That's...slightly more acceptable, I suppose," Clarke allowed, finding herself entranced by the gorgeous emeralds just inches from her face, plump lips parted to take shallow breaths.

If you'd asked the blonde to name the feeling that flickered back and forth between them in that moment, crackling and whirring like free-flowing currents of electricity, she probably couldn't have done it even if she'd actually  _ wanted _ to. It was so incredibly unknown to her, indescribable as it was...

All she knew was that Lexa was closer now, leaning in ever-so-slowly, eyes locked onto Clarke's lips, the blonde somehow feeling like she might actually allow this to happen, might be able to bear it this time if -

 

Suddenly, a gust of wind picked up, sending both girls' clothes awry as the trees swayed with the force. The fall chill became slightly more potent, and Clarke took a step back, noting how Lexa shivered and hugged her arms to her.

Without hesitating, Clarke removed her jacket, stepping forward to drape it over the brunette's shoulders and drawing the girl's attention back from where she'd been looking up into the night sky.  Lexa's eyebrows shot up as she looked down, eyes darting from Clarke to the jacket with her mouth agape. When she made to remove it, Clarke put her hands up to stop her, shaking her head.

 

"Keep it... I'm not cold."

 

"But, Clarke - "

 

"Really, Lexa," Clarke cut her off, a placating smile spreading across her face. "It's fine."

The brunette stared at her for a moment, seemingly contemplating some list of pros and cons as she measured Clarke up and down. After a moment, though, Lexa smiled softly, shuffling her feet a little awkwardly as she slipped her uninjured arm into the large sleeve. Clarke turned away from the girl and looked to her dad's grave, strange satisfaction blossoming in her chest at the sight of Lexa in her jacket.

The brunette came up to stand beside her then, both girls falling into a comfortable silence as the cicadas continued to chirp around them, a light breeze picking up. Whatever had almost occurred between them just now had clearly passed, but remnants of those same currents still danced between them, enticing...

 

"I guess chivalry's not dead after all, huh, Smallville?" the brunette piped up suddenly, a little  too enthusiastically - almost as if she knew the nickname would garner a reaction.

As predicted, Clarke whipped around, fixing Lexa with a glare as the brunette fought off a smile.

 

"Don't call me that."

 

"Aw, come on," Lexa drawled, bumping Clarke's shoulder with her own when the blonde continued to sulk. "What would you prefer, then?  _ Clarkey _ , maybe?"

The blonde's eyes narrowed even further, thoroughly unamused.

 

"My dad does  _ not _ approve of the direction this conversation is heading in, Woods," Clarke told her, raising her eyebrows as if daring the brunette to question her. "And he thinks that if you even want a snowball's chance in  _ hell _ at getting a second interview, you'll stick to  _ Clarke." _

Lexa threw her head back and laughed loudly, immediately immersing Clarke in the sound and throwing the blonde completely off-track. She really didn't seem to stand a chance against this girl.

 

"Using your old man as a shield, Griffin?" Lexa retorted, stifling the remainders of her laughter and fixing Clarke with an uninhibitedly affectionate look. "I'd say that's a low blow if I've ever heard one before - and, trust me, I've heard  _ more _ than my fair share in my line of work."

Clarke pursed her lips, suddenly exhausted by this strange banter that had her heart beating out of its normal rhythm, her body responding in foreign ways. She needed to leave...

 

She didn't make it two steps away from the grave before Lexa was in front of her again, catching her by the shoulder and fixing her with a startlingly serious gaze, eyes scanning the blonde's face for something. Clarke worked her jaw for a moment, steadying herself.

 

"I'm sorry if I overstepped," Lexa spoke softly, eyes forcing Clarke's to level with hers, sincerity dripping off of every word. "I realize I've probably forced myself into, arguably, one of the most personal moments a person can have here, and I don't know how to make it right... What I do know, though, is that I've pretty much been an abrasive ass to you since the moment we've met, and I just - " Lexa swallowed, clearly struggling to find the right words.

"I really did mean what I said before... You fascinate me -  _ everything _ about you fascinates me, actually, and I... Well, I'd like to try to capture that down on paper if it's even possible... If you'll still let me, of course."

In that moment, Clarke hated her. She hated everything about the girl... From her stupid sincerity to her sparkling eyes and slightly chapped lips... Everything.

 

_ Everything and nothing at all... _

 

"Don't beat yourself up about it, Lexa... I invited you here," Clarke told her, smiling gently to appease the guilty expression off the brunette's face. "Besides, he likes you just fine - maybe even more than me... Says you better bring him some flowers next time, though."

Lexa did smile at that, expression warming and reflecting Clarke's - neither girl dwelling too heavily on the implications behind the blonde's words.

"As for the rest of it... You don't owe me an apology. I know you're just doing your job, but..."

 

"But?" Lexa nearly whispered, hand moving away from the blonde's shoulder ever-so-slowly - as if it pained her to do so.

 

"But, I just... I don't think I can handle it right now..." Clarke admitted softly, avoiding meeting Lexa's gaze though silently imploring the girl to understand. "The questions are just...too much."

A silence fell over them for a moment, thick and inalterable with the weight of everything going unsaid - Clarke's secret comprising the majority of the burden. There was never a single moment in her life when she could avoid it - let her guard down and just  _ be _ \- and, for perhaps the first time in her life, she felt the strain more heavily on her shoulders than ever before, pushing her further into the ground - as if it wished to bury her beside her father, no less.

 

"Let me make it up to you," Lexa spoke up suddenly, stepping closer to Clarke and carelessly disregarding everything having to do with personal space once again. "Let me buy you a drink - or dinner, even. I won't ask a single question if you don't want me to, just - " The brunette choked a little, struggling to get her words out now as her tone bordered on pleading - uncharacteristic of the reporter that Lexa was known to be, if Clarke knew correctly...

"Just give me a chance to redeem myself... That's all I ask."

As taken aback by the request as she was, Clarke couldn't help but soften in response to the other girl's near - desperation. Maybe she could allow it just this once...

 

"I work every single day from 8 am to closing, sandwiched in between chores and taking care of Shelby," Clarke told her, trying not to notice the dulling of the spark in Lexa's eyes in response, the pull in her gut it caused her. "I just really don't think it'll work out, I - "

 

"No problem," Lexa piped up out of the blue, spark flashing through her eyes once more as a crooked grin spread across her features - clearly pleased with herself. "I'll see you at 8, then."

With that, she turned on her heels and strode away from Clarke with purpose, exuding the normal air of confidence the blonde associated with the renowned reporter.

 

"You can't just - "

 

"I'm gonna let you finish up here so that I can go do some planning," Lexa told her, turning to walk backwards now as she fixed Clarke with an expression full of wry amusement and total mirth - at the blonde's expense, of course. "Text me when you get home safely, and I'll see you bright and early tomorrow morning at the Talon... Don't be late."

First of all, Clarke  sure as _hell_ wasn't going to be texting Lexa tonight - no way in hell. Second of all, it was wholly unnecessary for the brunette to wink at her like that. Just  _ rude _ ...

 

"See ya 'round, Smallville!"

 

 

It was only after Lexa had disappeared from sight - the blonde gaping after her the entire time - that Clarke realized she hadn't gotten her jacket back.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts? I always love to hear what you thought (:


End file.
